


just a thought

by MsSir



Category: The Devil Wears Prada (2006)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:53:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27272230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsSir/pseuds/MsSir
Summary: unrelated scenes and ideas; born from word prompts and expressed as double drabbles.
Relationships: Miranda Priestly/Andrea Sachs
Comments: 5
Kudos: 42





	1. metaki

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> metaki (v): to do something with soul, creativity, or love, to put something of yourself into your work.

Miranda was a workaholic. She knew it as did everyone in her world. On occasion, she would feel remorseful about it, but only relation to her children. She wanted to be the mother her daughters wished for, but that was not as strong as the need to remain _the_ Queen of fashion, one of legend. Very little came close to that ambition, that desire, so her daughters received what energy remained after her work was completed.  
  
Usually, these moments of guilt and self doubt are drowned out by a simple truth: _Runway_ had become her only haven, her last place of peace (even in it's chaos). It was the only place she could completely be herself; be loved, be skillful and right. It was the only place she was heard without misunderstanding. A place she could give and create without rejection.  
  
She spent her time and energy in and on her job, on Fashion, because the positive reinforcements (award winning articles, perfect photos, higher profits, influencing an art) far outweighed the downside (missed calls from family, Stephen's affairs, cold shoulders from her girls). She continued to pour her joy, her time, her worth, the bright pieces of herself into _Runway_.


	2. cerulean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> cerulean (adj): a deep blue, resembling the color of the sky

Miranda had an affinity for blue colors, but cerulean never made the list. The memories attached to the shade weighed it down and made it hard to look at, or enjoy. It was the shade she avoided.

First, there was Roslyn. Their friendship true, childhood spent as one, a former type of care, but thirteen year olds rarely have a say in the important things, let alone a _forever_. Roslyn was wearing a cerulean and white dress when she told Miranda her family was moving away, the end of a ten year connection.

Then, there were the panties. Tauro Novi lace, cerulean with black, pulled from Gregory's suitcase (the last she'd unpacked for a lover). They were a size too big and in need of a wash. The final proof of a shifted relationship, of a husband lost.

And now Andrea, a different type of pain wrapped as an assistant who should not matter; yet she'd managed to draw blood, disrespecting the hand that deigned to feed her. She stood in Miranda's sanctum, wearing a cerulean excuse for a sweater, and attempted to render all of Fashion irrelevant.

Miranda was seriously considering the ramifications of blacklisting a color from _Runway_.


	3. littérateur

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> littérateur (n): a person who is interested in and knowledgeable about literature

Miranda liked to be quiet with Andy; liked soft touches without words; silent connections built on knowing. Andy knew this and wanted to enjoy it for herself. So, for the sake of Miranda's sanity, Andy would try to relax into the peace.  
  
But, sometimes, she didn't.  
  
Sometimes, she'd ask some long, complicated question about one of Miranda's books so she could watch the older woman open and become vibrant. Sometimes, she'd focus on Miranda's lips and enjoy the knowledge that her gaze led to increased moisturization. Sometimes, she'd focus on Miranda's eyes and how they shone with experience or delight or exasperation. Sometimes, she'd focus on Miranda's hands, taking in the twist of a ring, the tug on a necklace, or the tap and twirl of a pen.  
  
But mostly, she'd try to take it all in. She'd swim through the sound of Miranda's voice. She'd ride the ebb and flow of sound, the passion of understandings Miranda agreed with, the logic used to dismiss ideas she didn't, the dry wit hidden in both.  
  
How could she not engage the beautiful mind before her? She would always want to listen to Miranda's voice, study her mannerisms, drown in her presence.


	4. disenthrall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> disenthrall (v): to free someone from slavery; to liberate from a controlling force or influence

Miranda built her career on being thoughtful, careful with words—understanding their cost and effect on others—so, when Regina asked what being divorced from Stephen felt like. Miranda was displeased with the immediate idea and comparison that manifested. It was exaggerated and felt inappropriate. Miranda's head dipped to the right (something Regina understood as _I'm thinking_ ) and she isolated the ideas that birthed that immediate thought.   
  
There was this lunch. She no longer had demands on all of her available time, no one distancing her from friends or causing half-truths about her schedule. She didn't have to go out with him, doesn't have to count his drinks. or wait on edge for his next outburst. She didn't have to deal with collateral damage, apologizes, or the fallout. There was no more unwelcome or drunken attempts at mediocre sex or worrying about the leftovers from supposedly nonexistent affairs. No one was assaulting her self-worth or leaking poison into the relationship with her daughters. There were no more repetitious arguments or dreading arriving home.  
  
Even with the captivating and harmonious specks of the relationship now gone, her first thought was unsatisfactory, but the word still fit.  
  
"It's akin to rediscovering freedom."


End file.
